


Twins in Belgravia

by Littlebirdsword3773



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-12
Updated: 2014-06-12
Packaged: 2018-02-04 08:38:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1772749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Littlebirdsword3773/pseuds/Littlebirdsword3773
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the mysterious death of Irene Adler ( yes, she's actually dead this time.), Sherlock Holmes finds out he has twin daughters whose Mother are, yes you guessed it: Irene. Only Sherlock never slept with Irene, and he's pretty sure he'd remember getting somebody pregnant...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twins in Belgravia

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, I wish I had a better title. I'll have another chapter soon, but its finals week so....

John looked out the window of the cab as he and Sherlock drove to the scene of their newest case. John didn’t know anything about it, Sherlock was too wrapped up in the details to actually TELL him anything (God forbid Sherlock actually let him know what he would be blogging about). Most of the time he was fine not knowing, he was an army doctor after all, he’d SEEN things. But sometimes it was too much, like last week when he’d had to examine the decapitated nun. There were maggots coming out of her nose… it made John feel sick just thinking about it.  
He looked to Sherlock as the cab came to a stop… and nothing. The bastard had gotten out leaving John to pay. As usual. He sighed and dug his wallet out of his pocket handing money to the waiting cabbie. He grumbled under his breath as he slipped under the police tape and walked up to where Sherlock was kneeling. He stood there for a minute, still upset until he noticed something was wrong with Sherlock. He was quiet. Sherlock was NEVER quiet, he was always talking to himself or to John or yelling at the television, the Man grumbled in his sleep for goodness sake. But no, Sherlock was just sitting there, mouth open and staring down at the body.  
‘What the hell’s wrong with Sherlo-‘he glanced down and his mouth dropped open. Lying there on the floor was The Woman. Irene Adler, the only woman Sherlock had ever truly loved was lying dead on the ground, naked and with no obvious signs of harm. He kneeled down suspicious (shed been dead before and come back, after all.). She appeared to actually be dead but just to be sure… he reached out to take her pulse…  
“Don’t be an idiot John, I obviously took her pulse. She’s dead.” Sherlock reached out and smacked Johns hand away from her body, apparently having recovered from his shock. He leaned in and examined her face before turning to John with a look that clearly stated “Well? What do you think?” John leaned in and examined her slowly but nothing seemed to be wrong.  
“She looks exactly like the last time we saw her, fit, pale, faint abdominal stretch marks…” He trailed off, Sherlock had that look again. “Sherlock are you okay?”  
Sherlock stood up suddenly and walked away.  
The case was never closed.


End file.
